


The Beautiful One

by Whosdaboss4



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Attraction, Brienne the Beauty- for real - no joke, Brienne’s happiness comes first, Crush, Episode Tag 8x05, F/M, Jaime messed up-too bad for him, Language Barrier, New Relationship, Post-Canon, This fine Dothraki man is sliding into Brienne’s DMs, Westeros becoming more multi-cultural post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22474477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whosdaboss4/pseuds/Whosdaboss4
Summary: One thing that is universal, but varied as humanity - the standard of beauty.  This is a quick shot of an interaction between a Dothraki officer Qotto and Jaime when he’s being held in Daenerys’ camp (8x05).  Then there’s a post-canon interaction between Dothraki Ambassador Qotto (Dany broke that wheel) and Head Royal Guard Brienne.  Qotto has had a thing for Brienne from the first time he sees her at Winterfell.  But he knows there’s a cultural and communication difference he must overcome.  Qotto is very smart and patient and observant.  Looks wise, I envision Qotto a bit taller than Brienne and Jason Momoa’s brand of handsome (maybe Qotto and Khal Drogo were cousins).
Relationships: Brienne of Tarth/Original Character(s), Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 29
Kudos: 89





	The Beautiful One

**Author's Note:**

> Qotto knows Brienne’s name, but he makes Jaime say it just to acknowledge her. And hell, he just likes the sound of her name. According to a GoT name generator, Qotto means “loyal”. Also, I don't know how to write how someone would sound learning another language as Qotto is learning the “common tongue”. Finally, per https://funtranslations.com/dothraki , the translations are: “Yes, I have. With the Queen” and “Very good!”

Qotto couldn’t believe it. The Kingkiller was captured sneaking into Khaleesi’s camp. He wondered why. He also wondered where his woman was, the commander. He nodded at the Unsullied soldier that was guarding the tent where the Kingkiller was being held. Then he strode in. 

Qotto stared at the Kingkiller. He stared back with a curious, expectant expression. The Kingkiller was shackled to a post. Qotto that it was ridiculous. The Kingkiller fought well against the Dead, but he was an old man with only one hand. Not even his dominant hand. There’s no way he could escape the camp, unless he got help.

”Where your woman?” Qotto asked.

The Kingkiller’s eyes widened. “You know the common tongue?” he asked.

Qotto sighed internally. Of course, the Kingkiller thought all Dothraki were little more than animals. “I know tongue. I with Khaleesi long. I learn,” he answered.

The Kingkiller raised an eyebrow arrogantly. “ I’ve never heard any of you speak it,” he said.

Qotto retorted quickly, “We not speak it, not mean we not hear or speak. Some only hear words. Few hear and speak - like me. Where your woman?” 

The Kingkiller looked defiant and asked, “What woman?”

Qotto shook his head in frustration. He thought about just killing the Kingkiller and asking his brother instead. But the Little Man spoke in riddles he couldn’t understand. He answered, “The beautiful one.”

The Kingkiller answered with a smirk, “My sister is in the castle. You know...the big red one. The woman your Queen is fighting.”

Qotto wrinkled his nose in disgust. “No, she kill Missandei. Good woman. Not fighter. For nothing. Sister beautiful woman?” he asked. Qotto clicked his tongue against the side of his mouth. “No, co...mander. Win-ter-fell. The beautiful one. Say her name.”

The Kingkiller’s eyes flashed with murderous rage. He responded with an edge, “Ser Brienne.” Qotto knew the Kingkiller had some type of relationship with the beautiful woman. He was going to find out what the relationship was. 

Qotto immediately smiled. “Name beautiful. Like wind in grass… Brrriiiiieeeennnnneeee,” he said. His smile faded and he gave the Kingkiller a hard gaze. “Not in camp. I look,” Qotto said.

The Kingkiller looked off into the corner of the tent. At nothing. “She’s..she’s...I left her at Winterfell,” he said.

Qotto’s face fell. “More fighting. Go back? Hate cold, I go back,” he asked.

The Kingkiller looked back at Qotto. His face looked pained. “No, there’s no more fighting up North. I left her…” he said and swallowed hard. 

“Left her. Why? She great fighter,” Qotto asked. He knew the Westerosi didn’t believe women should be fighters. But he saw Brienne at work. She was one of the best he’d seen. 

The Kingkiller looked dejected. When he didn’t respond, Qotto knelt down and looked directly into the Kingkiller’s face. After he noted the Kingkiller’s slumped shoulders and moist eyes, he understood. 

“You left beautiful woman...why?” Qotto asked disbelieving. _What fool would leave the perfect woman,_ he thought.

The Kingkiller started speaking, “I’m…” Then he sneered at Qotto and barked, “I don’t have to tell you anything. If you here to kill me, do it now or just shut the fuck up.”

Qotto sneered back. “I see…stupid Westerosi. We hear men speak about her. We fight men. She beautiful. I not see eyes like her - like waters. Nose like fighter. Strong. Her mouth... her speak make me... not know my name. Hair like dry grass - like home. Skin smooth. Full of stars. Gods love her - give her skin stars. Her..her…” Qotto stopped talking as he ghosts his hands over his body. Then he groans with a smile. “She tall, strong woman. She beautiful,” he said.

The Kingkiller looked incensed. “What the fuck do you know?” he said. 

Qotto looked at the Kingkiller questioningly. He said,“ I know. I know Westerosi men all size. Big, little, fat….not fat. Yellow hair. Black hair. Red hair. Long hair. Short hair. Some little…” Qotto grabs his crotch and continues,”...cock.” Then he chuckled. 

“You speak all women... all look same. Little...weak. Not right. Stupid,” Qotto said. He stopped thoughtfully then continued, “ In the Cold...Win-ter-fell. One wild man. Red hair. He saw. But saw her…,” Qotto gestured to his whole body, “not her” he placed his huge hand over his heart. “I see her. You see her. Why left her?” Qotto asked. 

The Kingkiller looked sad and answered more to himself, “I don’t deserve her.” 

Qotto hadn’t heard that Westerosi word before. “De-serve?” he asked with a quizzical expression.

The Kingkiller sighed. “I’m not...not right for her,” he answered. 

Qotto’s eyebrows raised excitedly. Maybe there’s wasn’t a relationship between Brienne and the Kingkiller. He knew the Westerosi look down on their women fucking whoever they wanted. But maybe it was just fucking between them.

Qotto asked, “She speak it? You not de-serve? ” 

The Kingkiller didn’t answer. He looked at his feet. Qotto shrugged and stood up. He turned to leave the tent. Before he left, he turned back to the Kingkiller. 

“Khaleesi kill you. I take Brienne if Brienne want.” Qotto said calmly.

The Kingkiller actually growled. “She’ll never give you a second look, you beast,” he said. He began struggling with his restraints. “You can barely speak our language. You can’t….” he said.

Qotto interrupted the Kingkiller, “Speak will...better. Know her better. She smile to me, make me happy. She want me, better.” Qotto left the tent. As he got further away, the Little Man was heading toward the tent holding the Kingkiller. Qotto met his eyes and nodded at him in greeting. 

———————-

Two years later, Qotto stood on the edge of the Red Keep’s training yard watching the Beautiful One. She was training alone with a dummy. It was early morning and the rising sun cast golden and orange shadows across her lovely face and toned body. She moved fluidly and gracefully, but each movement was precise. She was so beautiful. She was perfection.

“Morning, Ser Brienne. The rising sunlight becomes you,” Qotto said.

She turned her head suddenly and blushed. “Oh, Ambassador, good morning. I didn’t see you were there. How are you?” she asked.

“Good, and you are?” he answered. 

She turned to face him fully. “I am well. When did you get back? I thought it wouldn’t be for two more days,” she replied. She smiled at him. 

Qotto knew it was just a polite smile. The Beautiful One was almost always polite. But his heart still pounded in his chest. Her smile almost made him forget what he wanted to say. 

“Last night. We had good wind. I hope you would break your fast with me, after we train...” Qotto said as he walked toward her. 

The Beautiful One stepped toward Qotto and when they were only a few feet apart, he reached for her hand and leaned over to kiss it. She blushed. He would always be grateful for the Khaleesi’s husband for explaining to him how to court the Westerosi woman, but only after she was finished mourning the Kingkiller. King Jon said in the meantime he should just be kind and gentle toward her. King Jon also told him to ask her for help with some task, so they could be around and get to know one another. King Jon told him Westerosi women love gifts, but it had to be something they want. He had a blue steel arakh made for her with **her** suns and moons emblazoned on the hilt. He couldn’t wait until he gave it to her later. The Kingkiller gave her a blade with **his** lions on it. How vain? 

Then he straightened up and smiled at her. He loved that she was tall, so could look directly into her beautiful face. Then she gave him a genuine smile. He just wanted to kiss her. And take her. And make her his. Soon, he told himself. He was patient.

“How was your trip? And did you finish your report to the Queen?” she asked giving him a cheeky grin.

“Productive. And yes, best I can. Will you look at it?” he asked quickly. Qotto would always need help with writing since his people don’t. Also, the common tongue is a tricky language. But he is proud to be a nearly fluent speaker, even if it is with his thick Dothraki accent. The Beautiful One understands him. His Khaleesi understands him; well, she speaks Dothraki so that really doesn’t count. But as long as those two woman can hear his words, fuck what anyone else thinks. Of course, there’s no way anyone would say anything to his face.

“Of course. Do you want to train first or eat or should I look at the report?” she suppressed a giggle.

He chuckled and his smile widened. “Wait, have you been practicing Ser?”

The Beautiful One bit her luscious lip, then said indignantly, “Ai, anha hash. Ma Khaleesi.” 

Qotto laughed and said, “Sekke davra!” He really wanted to kiss her now. 

“Well, we have plenty of time to look at the report and I'm warmed up, so let’s train. Then we can eat. Yes?” she said. 

“Yes,” he agreed. 

They walked to the armory together with their shoulders almost touching. Qotto brushed his fingers against hers. The Beautiful One looked at him and smiled. Then, he linked his fingers with hers. 


End file.
